A bright shaft of sunlight pierced the curtains and lit up the
spot where John's head used to lay. Every morning for nearly five years
Sally had woken up, gazed at John's perfect profile, his curly, blond
hair still perfectly groomed, and listened to his gentle breathing with a
smile of satisfaction.
All through their marriage Sally had paid great attention to making their bed. It had been her job as a young girl to make the beds. Her mother had never wanted to know about duvets, not for her a quick flip of a feather quilt and a perfunctory smoothing down. Peggy, their elderly next door neighbour had insisted that the coming of the duvet had revolutionized her life, given her an extra half hour each day, but Sally had learned to do envelope corners and spray the bottom sheet and pillows with the purest lavender water. Next she would shake out the top sheet and tuck it in all around before placing the fine wool blanket over the top and turning down the top edge of the sheet.
On leaving school Sally had started work at the luxury spa hotel in the centre of the beautiful Cotswold town where she and John had grown up. They had been childhood sweethearts and married as soon as John had finished training to be an accountant. Sally was quickly promoted to Head Housekeeper and her mother was convinced it was because of her bed-making skills.
Sally's mother had always given great importance to the healing properties of a good nights sleep. It crossed Sally's mind once or twice that her mother had never really used her conscience much and that explained her deep dreamless sleep and unlined face.
Sally shivered, remembering what her mother had said when Sally told her that John had left her. He'd said he needed space and needed to put some distance between himself and their small town. Sally had sat broken hearted as her mother went on and on about how men were all the same, that John was just like Sally's father who had gone off the moment he had discovered he was going to be a father. Sally pointed out that she wasn't pregnant and John had gone off to find himself, working on an oil rig.
Sally waited for the tears to come as realization dawned with each new day, she now slept alone. Her daily crying sessions seemed to give her some temporary relief from the pain in her heart.
She made herself a cup of tea and glanced at her phone, hoping to see John's name pop up on the screen.
There were two messages, one from her mother asking if she wanted to go shopping and one from her friend Greta from work.
Sally called her mother, trying to keep the sadness from her voice and told her that she'd come and pick her up, it was her day off and they could go and have coffee in the new department store outside town.
Next she rang Greta who wanted to tell her all about a walking holiday in Wales, staying in hostel and would Sally like to come to. There had been some cancellations, it was for next week if Sally could get the time off. The holiday was for all ages, called walking for softies or something. if it turned out well then they could go to Spain on the cammino to Santiago de Compostela next year. Sally said she'd think about it and let her know.
As they sat drinking their coffee in the new department store Sally told her mother about Greta's proposal. Her mother nearly dropped her coffee cup and gazed at her daughter in horror.
'Oh Sally that would be awful! How would you get to sleep in a hostel? You'd hear everyone snoring or worse and the sheets would be all rough. You'd never have the energy to do all that walking in the day time without a good night's sleep.'
Something in her mother's expression and the catch in her voice brought a lump to Sally's throat. She' d always thought her mother was strong and independent but now she glimpsed the loneliness in her mother's eyes. Sally had always thought that John would have been hers forever and the pain of him leaving was deep.
She put her hand over her mother's and squeezed it gently then she smiled warmly.
'Mum why don't you come too? You're still young and fit, Greta would be pleased I know. Tell you what, let's go to the bedding department. I'll treat us to a duvet each. I'm sure we'll be fine and don't forget that Peggy next door says you save half an hour each morning.'
She grabbed her mother by the arm and marched her out of the cafe before she could protest.
As they walked round the bedding department they saw a young couple trying out the beds. They were giggling and snuggling up as they tried the mattresses and stroked the fabric of the duvets. Sally thought of the way some of the couples staying in the hotel would emerge from their rooms, flushed and smiling. She'd often find the bedclothes very rumpled and feel embarrassed about what she found among the twisted sheets.
On the way home she texted Greta to say that she would love to join her and could she bring her mother. Geta texted back immediately, delighted.
Her mother invited her in for tea and they looked up the route they would take over the Welsh hills and in the valleys. As she was about to leave Sally's phone rang, her heart leapt when she saw John's name, she moved into the kitchen to answer. John sounded far away and she strained to hear his words, she trembled and her head span as she heard him say he missed her, he wanted to come home, he wanted her in his life.
Sally took a deep breath before replying, she didn't want him to know just yet how desperately she wanted him back.
'I'm taking my mother on a walking holiday with Greta, we'll be back next week, come round on Friday and we can talk.'
She rang off and sobs of relief wracked her body, tears of happiness fell down her cheeks, her mother came into the kitchen and stared, concern all over her face. Sally grinned at her through her tears.
'He wants to come back to me Mum.'
Her mother hugged her tight and told her she was happy for her. There was a catch in her voice as she looked into Sally's face.
'You know Sally, my mother was so prudish. She was always go on about no hanky panky whenever your father came round, she didn't approve of it at all, they're the words she used. '
Sally was about to giggle at the words 'hanky-panky' but tears started to stream down her mother's cheeks.
'Oh mum, don't cry, dad betrayed you.'
Her mother tried to smile through her tears,
'Yes Sally, but maybe of he'd had a bit more of the hanky panky from me, who knows.
He wanted to come back but my mother said she'd never forgive me if I did, that all men were after one thing. I so wish I'd given him a second chance. Don't make the same mistake as me.'
Sally hugged her mother tight. 'Come on mum. we'll have a lovely holiday with Greta and then we'll have a welcome home party for John, everything will be fine.'
On the way home in the car Sally thought about how she missed John, how much she wanted him back. He'd said he missed her too, maybe they could start again, make their marriage better, more fun. She thought of the bedding she had bought, the soft silky pillows and the duvet to save time bed making and she smiled to herself, a secret slow smile with a hint of mischief and she knew what she was going to do with that extra half hour.
All through their marriage Sally had paid great attention to making their bed. It had been her job as a young girl to make the beds. Her mother had never wanted to know about duvets, not for her a quick flip of a feather quilt and a perfunctory smoothing down. Peggy, their elderly next door neighbour had insisted that the coming of the duvet had revolutionized her life, given her an extra half hour each day, but Sally had learned to do envelope corners and spray the bottom sheet and pillows with the purest lavender water. Next she would shake out the top sheet and tuck it in all around before placing the fine wool blanket over the top and turning down the top edge of the sheet.
On leaving school Sally had started work at the luxury spa hotel in the centre of the beautiful Cotswold town where she and John had grown up. They had been childhood sweethearts and married as soon as John had finished training to be an accountant. Sally was quickly promoted to Head Housekeeper and her mother was convinced it was because of her bed-making skills.
Sally's mother had always given great importance to the healing properties of a good nights sleep. It crossed Sally's mind once or twice that her mother had never really used her conscience much and that explained her deep dreamless sleep and unlined face.
Sally shivered, remembering what her mother had said when Sally told her that John had left her. He'd said he needed space and needed to put some distance between himself and their small town. Sally had sat broken hearted as her mother went on and on about how men were all the same, that John was just like Sally's father who had gone off the moment he had discovered he was going to be a father. Sally pointed out that she wasn't pregnant and John had gone off to find himself, working on an oil rig.
Sally waited for the tears to come as realization dawned with each new day, she now slept alone. Her daily crying sessions seemed to give her some temporary relief from the pain in her heart.
She made herself a cup of tea and glanced at her phone, hoping to see John's name pop up on the screen.
There were two messages, one from her mother asking if she wanted to go shopping and one from her friend Greta from work.
Sally called her mother, trying to keep the sadness from her voice and told her that she'd come and pick her up, it was her day off and they could go and have coffee in the new department store outside town.
Next she rang Greta who wanted to tell her all about a walking holiday in Wales, staying in hostel and would Sally like to come to. There had been some cancellations, it was for next week if Sally could get the time off. The holiday was for all ages, called walking for softies or something. if it turned out well then they could go to Spain on the cammino to Santiago de Compostela next year. Sally said she'd think about it and let her know.
As they sat drinking their coffee in the new department store Sally told her mother about Greta's proposal. Her mother nearly dropped her coffee cup and gazed at her daughter in horror.
'Oh Sally that would be awful! How would you get to sleep in a hostel? You'd hear everyone snoring or worse and the sheets would be all rough. You'd never have the energy to do all that walking in the day time without a good night's sleep.'
Something in her mother's expression and the catch in her voice brought a lump to Sally's throat. She' d always thought her mother was strong and independent but now she glimpsed the loneliness in her mother's eyes. Sally had always thought that John would have been hers forever and the pain of him leaving was deep.
She put her hand over her mother's and squeezed it gently then she smiled warmly.
'Mum why don't you come too? You're still young and fit, Greta would be pleased I know. Tell you what, let's go to the bedding department. I'll treat us to a duvet each. I'm sure we'll be fine and don't forget that Peggy next door says you save half an hour each morning.'
She grabbed her mother by the arm and marched her out of the cafe before she could protest.
As they walked round the bedding department they saw a young couple trying out the beds. They were giggling and snuggling up as they tried the mattresses and stroked the fabric of the duvets. Sally thought of the way some of the couples staying in the hotel would emerge from their rooms, flushed and smiling. She'd often find the bedclothes very rumpled and feel embarrassed about what she found among the twisted sheets.
On the way home she texted Greta to say that she would love to join her and could she bring her mother. Geta texted back immediately, delighted.
Her mother invited her in for tea and they looked up the route they would take over the Welsh hills and in the valleys. As she was about to leave Sally's phone rang, her heart leapt when she saw John's name, she moved into the kitchen to answer. John sounded far away and she strained to hear his words, she trembled and her head span as she heard him say he missed her, he wanted to come home, he wanted her in his life.
Sally took a deep breath before replying, she didn't want him to know just yet how desperately she wanted him back.
'I'm taking my mother on a walking holiday with Greta, we'll be back next week, come round on Friday and we can talk.'
She rang off and sobs of relief wracked her body, tears of happiness fell down her cheeks, her mother came into the kitchen and stared, concern all over her face. Sally grinned at her through her tears.
'He wants to come back to me Mum.'
Her mother hugged her tight and told her she was happy for her. There was a catch in her voice as she looked into Sally's face.
'You know Sally, my mother was so prudish. She was always go on about no hanky panky whenever your father came round, she didn't approve of it at all, they're the words she used. '
Sally was about to giggle at the words 'hanky-panky' but tears started to stream down her mother's cheeks.
'Oh mum, don't cry, dad betrayed you.'
Her mother tried to smile through her tears,
'Yes Sally, but maybe of he'd had a bit more of the hanky panky from me, who knows.
He wanted to come back but my mother said she'd never forgive me if I did, that all men were after one thing. I so wish I'd given him a second chance. Don't make the same mistake as me.'
Sally hugged her mother tight. 'Come on mum. we'll have a lovely holiday with Greta and then we'll have a welcome home party for John, everything will be fine.'
On the way home in the car Sally thought about how she missed John, how much she wanted him back. He'd said he missed her too, maybe they could start again, make their marriage better, more fun. She thought of the bedding she had bought, the soft silky pillows and the duvet to save time bed making and she smiled to herself, a secret slow smile with a hint of mischief and she knew what she was going to do with that extra half hour.
